Page 60 of Legacy

My fingers grip the sponge tighter, and water drips down my leg. I snap myself out of my dirty thoughts and grab the water bucket to clean up the mess I just made. The house is spotless. Proof of just how anxious I am about what happened last night.

When things spin out of control, I fix them. When the world becomes messy, I clean it.

It’s all I can do to keep it together.

Glancing at the clock, I see there’s still three hours until Bea is out of school, and I’m a mess from cleaning. My hair is wild, and my clothes are going to have bleach spots. I make my way into my bedroom to take a shower, but the moment I’m about to step inside, my phone rings.

It’s distant, which means I must have left it in the kitchen.

What if it’s Margaret?

Or Jesse?

Or my sister?

I tie my hair up in a knot and grab a towel to cover myself as I dart through the house. But when I turn the corner to the kitchen, I stop dead in my tracks.

Jesse is standing at the counter, looking as tired as he did this morning, and still way too good in jeans and a T-shirt. He’s already stripped off his cut and boots andleft them by the door like he usually does when he gets home, and it shows off how his thick shoulders stretch the fabric.

I take another step forward, but he doesn’t look up from where he’s staring at my ringing phone.

“Who’s Lincoln?” He hits a button to decline the call, but it just starts ringing again almost immediately.

Shit.

Jesse’s gaze slides up to meet mine, and I feel every inch of exposed skin on display with this too-small towel wrapped around me. His heated gaze roves me head to toe, pausing on my thighs before his stare snaps back up. A collision of lust and irritation brews in his bright-blue eyes.

My phone rings again, and I jump.

“He’s persistent.” Jesse narrows his gaze.

“Yeah.” I force a smile, but I know it’s not fooling him as I hurry to the counter and grab my phone.

I turn it to silent and make a mental note to block this new number because I must have forgotten after he texted from it this morning.

“Reagan.” My name lands like lightning in a quiet room. “Who is Lincoln?”

Jesse already rarely trusts anyone outside of the members of his club. If he knows what I’m running from, he’ll just have the confirmation he’s been looking for that I’m more trouble than I’m worth to him.

“Lincoln’s my boss.” I try to keep my breathing even as I look up and face him.

We’re standing closer than I realized. Jesse still smells like he did straight out of the shower. A delicious mix of soap and cologne.

“Your boss?” He ticks his head.

“Myformerboss, I mean. He was the principal at the school I worked at.” It’s not a lie.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t answer.” I shrug, trying to brush it off, even as I’m sure my phone is silently ringing again on the counter.

But Jesse doesn’t break my stare or let it go. He towers over me with a stony expression, refusing me an inch of space.

“He’s probably just checking in since I left town so quickly,” I say when I can’t bear the silence.

“Why would yourformerboss care about that?”

“He’s probably just worried.”

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